


Gossamer

by Velvet-Muffin (MischaBea)



Category: AU RPF - Fandom, British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston-Fandom
Genre: Angels, Doctor!Tom, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 19:51:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4535157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischaBea/pseuds/Velvet-Muffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel Nadia has to think quickly when Dr. Tom finds her doing her job, which mortals aren't allowed to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gossamer

**Author's Note:**

> I know. This is a really weird premise for a one shot. But bear with me and I hope you'll be pleased with it. It possibly has potential to be more once I've finished some of my other open works.

I promise you, if you saw me walking down the street, you’d think very little of it. Just a another girl making her way in the big city. A very pretty girl, maybe. You might even admire the dramatic curve of my backside, or the effortless curl of my dark hair over my shoulders, possibly the stunning aquamarine of my eyes, but you’d go on about your business, barely giving me a second thought. Too pretty for you. Out of your league. That’s by design of course. If you get to choose your mortal form, you go over the top, you know what I’m saying? Oh. Wait. Maybe I should have lead with that. 

I am not a mortal. I’m an Angel of the Lord. 

Ugh. That’s so overly dramatic, like something Gabe would say. It’s true, but it makes it seem much more impressive than it actually is. I’m not even middle management. I’m just a drone, really. Higher level than the Guardians but so far beneath Arch it’s not even worth talking about. I’m just a minor cog in the Heaven Industrial Complex, here on earth getting my orders from my Heavenbound counterpart.

The gentle vibration at my temple alerted me to an incoming message. The rise of mobile technology has made my job about a bajillion times easier. Now when it seems I’m talking to myself, people just assume I have an earpiece that bluetooths to my cell. It used to be I’d have to avoid the men with the butterfly nets if anyone saw me receiving a communiqué from my partner, Pietro. “Hey, Pete. What’s up?”

“7th and Main. There’s been an accident. The guy isn’t on the roll for at least thirty more years. It's a real cluster.”

“You're killing me, dude. I was on my way to the coffee shop. I need my caffeine. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night. What’s the story?”

“His guardian is overburdened. Felix was handling a near miss across town. I’ll have incoming to you in five. Will you be ready?”

I sighed, calculating the distance from my current location. “Sure thing.” I ducked into an alleyway in preparation for going invisi. You can’t just let the wings out if everyone can see you. 

Once intangible, I took off, flying a straight shot to the man lying lifeless in the middle of the street. If I’d known the exact location, I may have just shimmered there, but in a situation like this, I prefer to see it from the air first. A crowd of onlookers had gathered but no emergency personnel had responded yet. This was a better than average package delivery, being a fairly quick catch, but the best ones have no witnesses at all. I landed between the body and the nearest spectators, who immediately shivered and turned away at the chill my unseen presence provided. 

“I’m in place. Send when ready,” I whispered and immediately I saw a glowing parcel headed towards me from directly above. It landed perfectly into my outstretched hands and I knelt and pushed it hard into the dead man’s chest. He gasped a huge breath and his eyes shot open, boring directly into mine. I smiled serenely at him, knowing he would only see me for a moment. “You’re going to be fine.” I placed my hand momentarily on his cheek before melting back into the crowd. The bystanders began to push in, exclaiming upon the witness of a miracle, as the man sat up, shaking off the accident.

I shimmered back into existence a ways down the street, where no one was around. 

“Excellent job, Nadia. I’m always impressed by your finesse.” Pietro was definitely being facetious.

“Oh come on, Pete! I didn’t even knock over one human that time! And they were all over the scene!”

He giggled. “The miracle is that you haven’t been demoted any time in the last hundred years, what with the number of times you have to wipe the memory of the people you come in contact with!”

I grinned. “You know that’s not usually my fault! If you guys can’t get me these souls back before the funeral, I don’t have any choice but to wipe an entire room full of people.” 

That had only happened once. But the truth was, these sorts of clerical errors were now happening with an alarming frequency. The decision had been made in the recent years to incorporate more mortal technology in with the archival system. The secularization of the Heaven Industrial Complex could be seen in all parts of it’s structure now. The reality was, it mucked up the works. Maybe someday it would work together seamlessly but at the moment, there were still lots of growing pains.

I could hear Pietro typing away on his keyboard before his voice came back over my communicator. “Oh no. You’re not going to be happy about this…”

 

I made it to the hospital in record time but had informed Pete that since the mishap had occurred several hours before, he could do me the courtesy of giving me an extra twenty minutes to get my stuff together. I swung by the normally deserted main level locker room to grab the lab coat, stethoscope, and badge I'd stashed there to look the part. Then I grabbed a bag filled with nondescript clothing and strolled back out to the lobby coffee cart. 

“Good evening, Kingsley! Can I get two dark roasts, one with cream?” I smiled at the older man who ran the overnight shift at the cart.

He raised a brow. “Two, Dr. Serafi?” he teased in his Antillean cadence, “Are you taking one to Dr. Hiddleston?”

“Yes, but only as a friendly gesture. It's not romantic.”

He grunted a disbelieving sound. “I’ve seen you both together. You make a handsome pair.”

My unattractive snort should have told him how ridiculous that idea was. “He’d make a handsome pair with Quasimodo. But thank you.” I took the two cups and raised them in a goodbye salute as I turned to the stairwell that lead to the basement.

Once down the stairs, I maneuvered the door to the morgue open with an elbow and a hip. The hospital's third shift forensic pathologist was standing over a female body on the slab. A moment passed before he saw me and I was able to marvel at the tall, slim man with the eternally perfect amount of gingery scruff. God really was good.

“Hey Dr. H. I brought you some coffee. I figured you could use a jolt to help you through the night."

"Haven't we known each other long enough for you to just call me Tom?" he chuckled. "And you know beverages aren't allowed in here."

I shrugged. "Live a little. You have to do something to brighten up your dreary cave-dwelling life."

"I do, in fact, leave the cave every morning, I'll have you know."

I handed him the coffee, grinning. "Black. Just how you like it."

"You spoil me," he smiled back. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Nadia? You can't come bearing gifts of coffee without reason."

"Why not? Can't friends share a little interregnum without an ulterior motive?" He was suspicious fast this time. I needed to get in and out quicker. Maybe I'd done the wrong thing cultivating a rapport with this man. I'll admit that wasn't for entirely unselfish reasons. He's really nice to look at. And spend time with. Hey, I may be an angel but I sure as hell am not perfect. I needed to get this moving.

Pointing across the room toward the far counter, I asked, "Is that a curved Kelly clamp? I've been looking for one of those for ages! May I have it?"

When he moved across the room to inspect the object in question, I whispered, "Ready," and the soul fell into my hands. I pushed it into the woman's chest then flicked a blazing flash of light toward the doctor who had turned back to me, hoping to daze him and slow his return. I reassured the bewildered restored woman while handing her the bundle of clothes from the bag to change into. "Go home to your family. Assure them that it was a terrible mistake. You're very much alive and well after your accident. It was the other driver who didn't make it."

She nodded and her stunned form moved out the door, throwing the tee shirt dress over her nakedness.

"Hey! You can't just tell my body to leave! How, how," the good doctor stammered, "how is this possible? What is going on? It's not possible!"

Calmly, I walked over to him and placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Shh. It's okay. You didn't see what you think you saw." His eyes darted around the room. "Look at me. Look in my eyes. You didn't see it." His eyes glazed for a moment and I thought my hypnotism was working. 

Then he shook his head violently, somehow managing to reject the mesmerized state. "No. I saw you. You woke up a dead woman."

I was worried. He'd been whammied too many times. The only precedents for habitual memory wipes weren't necessarily good ones. People going insane or catatonic. But this was a new one, this resistance. I tried a different tack. "What? That's inconceivable! You must be dreaming!"

"Oh no," he insisted. "I'm not dreaming. All the times I’ve dreamt of you, I promise, we have never been at work and we've never just been chatting...Oh...Oh God..." All the color drained from his face. "I really hope I am dreaming. I don't want to have just admitted to you that I've subconsciously thought about you...Sexually."

That was a revelation. And an opening. I moved my hand from his shoulder, up his neck, and into the back of his hair. "See, then? This is definitely a dream." I pulled his head down and kissed him with a passion that was not difficult to muster. 

He gave in immediately to the "dream". It was clearly easier than believing his eyes. He wrapped his arms around me and I decided the only way to remedy this was to convey us in a moment to his apartment. I let my wings loose and enclosed us both inside them before shimmering us to his home. I would let Pete take care of the technical details left at the hospital. 

Once in his living room, I broke the kiss, glancing around at my surroundings. The space was clean and meticulously organized. Small but open, the living area was separated from the kitchen by a breakfast bar that clearly doubled as an actual bar with two neat rows of bottles taking up a portion of the space.

Thinking I’d suggest he go to bed and then sneak out the front, I began to speak, gesturing toward his bedroom door. But Tom didn't even wait to listen to me. He pulled me back into him, running with the idea that this was his reverie and he could do what he wanted inside of it. He kissed me again, even deeper this time, and lifted me up by my backside. Instinctively, I wrapped my limbs around him and he carried me to the bedroom.

He dropped me down onto the bed and even if I’d wanted to stop him, the intensity in his eyes and set of his jaw would have changed my mind. His lustful gaze was one of the more beautiful things I'd seen in all of my existence. 

Was it wrong to use this situation to allow this man inside of me? Absolutely. Was I going to do it anyway because I’d wanted him for months? Also, absolutely. He didn’t believe the experience was genuine, but he clearly wanted it too. What was the harm? So I let him undress me and, as he stood overhead in all his own bare athletic glory, all of my apprehension melted away.

“Tom, I need you.” I reached my hands toward him, grazing the muscles of his midsection.

“I know,” he returned with a cocksure grin, as he climbed into bed, positioning himself between my thighs. 

I embraced him fully, arms and legs against his skin, drawing him in, feeling the fullness as he entered me, the ecstasy of the distension and withdrawal, bringing me to the edge faster than should have been possible. He continued to move inside of me with slow, certain motions, shifting from time to time, changing the angle for new and more powerful sensations.

After my third or so orgasm in missionary, he flipped me over, taking me from behind. My hips slightly elevated, cheek pressed into the bed, I strained to turn my head to see him. He repositioned himself inside me, but before resuming his movements I felt his fingers tracing lines along my back. I knew he was outlining my wings, which appeared somewhat like tattoos when not in use. I wasn’t concerned that he’d ever see this very recognizable characteristic again, as this was a dream, so far as he knew.

“I love these,” he murmured as he pushed me down fully, splaying my legs and covering me with his body. 

He suckled at the back of my neck as I responded. “My wings?” My breathless voice was barely a whisper.

“Yes. Strange,” he mused as he wrapped his arms around and my chest and plunged into me even deeper, “but so beautiful.” 

I angled my face even more toward him as he lowered his forehead to the bed and turned to me. I captured his lip between my teeth, gently suckling until his climax was drawn from him, his moans filling the small room. Afterwards, we held each other until I could be certain he’d fallen into a true deep sleep. 

Then I extricated myself and was reassured by the fact that he would wake with the awareness that he’d had a particularly vivid dream. Neither of us would be able to look the other in the eye for a very long time. And I was going to have to find a new way to deal with accidents that made their way to the morgue. Unless I could just make this work every time. Maybe I could figure out a way to make that happen...

I looked down at his sleeping form expecting to feel regret that I'd broken so many rules in the preceding hour. None came. Not for that. Only the overwhelming desire to climb back into the bed and take him in my arms again. But no. I had a job to do and it didn't include, could never include, something like this. No matter how much I wanted it. 

I quickly returned the clothes to my mortal form and tidied the things that had been strewn about in our haste to get into bed. Picking up his lab coat, I resolved to return it to the locker where it hung inside the hospital on his off hours. But before I left I took a long swig off the bottle of Devil's Cut bourbon he kept on the counter. Because sometimes you need a little devil even when you're an angel.


End file.
